


Some Day Soon

by Persephoneshadow



Series: Make the Yuletide Gay [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Holidays, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Lawyer Castiel, M/M, Musician Dean, SPN Holiday Mixtape, Songfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Castiel, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:33:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8738443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephoneshadow/pseuds/Persephoneshadow
Summary: Castiel doesn't mind his job as lawyer just like he doesn't mind that he's alone on Christmas eve and working on Christmas day. That's just the way life is - a dull slog of work and duty and not much else. The only thing he wishes he could change is to maybe get up the nerve to really talk to Dean Winchester, the gorgeous process server who Castiel has harbored a crush on for months. But maybe with a little meddling and some holiday magic, they'll both get what they want for Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends, and Happy Holidays! I was super excited to participate in the first ever [SPN Holiday Mixtape](http://holidaymixtape.tumblr.com/)! As you can probably tell from my other works I really like stories inspired by songs and I love Christmas! This fic was inspired by ["Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_W7b7Aq9tyQ) (Click to listen) as preformed by Jensen on [Jason Manns's Chirstmas With Friends album](https://jasonmanns.bandcamp.com/album/christmas-with-friends). I strongly encourage everyone to download the whole album, because it's great. The song led me to a particular mental image and well...you'll see. Please enjoy.
> 
> Many thanks to 

Lawyers don’t get holidays. That’s what one of Castiel’s professors had said the first week of classes in Law School. That admonition had come right in-between being told that twenty percent of them would have a substance abuse problem within a decade and that most of them would never see the inside of a court room. Well, a half a decade has passed since that lecture, and two years out of law school Cas isn’t addicted to anything but the rest is certainly true. He spends his days pushing paper; writing briefs and researching case law and getting yelled at by partners. Just as had been promised, his day is broken into six minute billable increments that tick by in a dull, soulless slog.

Today has been no different, except for the fact it’s Christmas eve. It’s snowing outside and there are carols playing on Castiel's ancient radio, but that’s the only thing remotely seasonal going on in his office. He had wanted to get a small tree for his desk, or maybe a decorative snowman, but he had kept getting distracted by work an now it was too late. At least in the brief moments he manages to close the seventeen open windows on his computer, he has a festive desktop background: a nice picture of a cozy house with a tree by the window as snow falls outside. It’s not his house, of course. He has a boring apartment that he doesn’t see very much which is, like his desk, void of any of the seasonal touches that he’d like. The legal assistant didn’t even bring cookies this year and he has no clients of his own to send him cards.

His office is a drab, cheerless void; which sadly suits his life quiet well.

Castiel’s email dings and it sends a small pulse of dread through him. I might be a new assignment, though he doesn’t think anyone in the firm is quite sadistic enough to give him new work on Christmas eve. Actually, scratch that. Zachariah Adler would, especially after making such a big fuss that _he_ wouldn't be taking Christmas off. Then again, it could be another worthy cause or association making a year end ask for money to do real good in the world – the kind Castiel had gone to law school to actually do. Or it could be the far more depressing cousin of those: the ones asking for lawyers to actually help or volunteer. Castiel never deletes those, just moves them to a separate folder that would be ten pounds if it wasn’t digital. The end of year asks are voluminous and easy to ignore, but it’s the calls for help that are increasingly urgent. All of those of course are better than the stilted notes from his family.

Castiel opens the email with trepidation and lets out a small sigh to see that it’s just a note from Adler that the papers for the Bryant case are ready to be served and the process server should be by to pick them up soon. It’s a bit sad that Castiel fills with excitement at that news. Talking to the process server is the closest thing Castiel gets to interacting with the courts or clients. Sometimes he tries to tell himself that’s why he so enjoys seeing the man. Then he remembers green eyes and freckles and a warm smile and stops lying to himself.

Castiel wishes he could get up the nerve to do more than exchange small talk with Dean Winchester. Not only is he the most beautiful person Castiel has ever seen, but he’s kind and funny – Castiel isn’t entirely sure on that one but he does make other people laugh – and he always smiles when he sees Castiel. It’s probably for the best though. His job involves stalking down people and delivering some of the worst news they’ll ever get and, from what Cas can tell from Dean’s stories, it’s a rough, grueling and extremely heterosexual line of work. Dean’s tales of flirting his way into someone’s office to serve them _had_ once involved a receptionist of undisclosed gender, so Castiel still maintains a stupid spark of hope. It’s about as likely as getting a last minute Christmas invitation though, so it’s better not to get too attached the idea. Dean is sort of like all those emails, a beautiful idea that Castiel isn’t meant for and will never get to. Sort of like decorating for the holidays, or even celebrating them. There’s no point when he has no time or courage. Of course it will be nice to at least see Dean before Christmas. Castiel resolves himself to be…content with life. He has a roof over his head and a job that pays well and so what if he’s maybe going to work late of Christmas eve and all of Christmas day because he has nowhere to go. It’s fine. This is the life he has and he’s going to be okay with that as long as he can forget most of the details.

He at least manages to lose himself in prepping the Bryant file until Gabriel comes in wearing both a Santa hat and reindeer antler.

“Hark the herald angels sings, time to leave and pack your things!” the senior associate bellows. Castiel hunches behind his desk and focuses on his monitor.

“It’s four o’clock, Gabriel."

“It’s Christmas Eve, friendo, you, me and Hannah are the only schmos left,” Gabriel says. “And Hannah and I are about to get gone, so up and at ‘em.”

“I have to work,” Castiel mutters, typing the deposition notes he’s working on with renewed vigor.

“Oh yeah, you’re handing off the Bryant papers to pretty boy.”

Castiel’s hands fall from his keyboard and his cheeks flush. “How did you know that?”

“Who do you think told Adler the best way to serve the chumps would be to catch them on Christmas?” Gabriel grins.

Castiel scowls and glances to the file on his desk to make sure it’s all in order for when Dean arrives. “That’s actually terrible,” he says as he tries to be subtle about chucking his hair in the reflection of his stapler. Gabriel catches him and starts sniggering. “Are you still here for a reason?”

“Wouldn’t wanna miss the show,” Gabriel says, almost floating he’s so pleased. “But, don’t bother with the hair, you loook cute rumpled. Or even better!” Gabriel is too fast and before Castiel knows it the Santa hat is sitting on his head, he’s spun a full 180 degrees in his chair, and the smaller man is cackling. “Now you’re in the spirit!”

“Gabriel, please,” Castiel groans. “I have plenty of holiday spirit. I just…keep in contained.”

“That’s your problem, kid, you keep _everything_ contained. Including your raging crush on Freckles McBowlegs.”

“I do not-” Castiel’s protest dies on his tongue as Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “Please go away.”

“Listen, I don’t care if you’re not out or whatever, but nothing is gonna happen with the hottie if you don’t nut up and…why, speak of the devil!” Gabriel grins towards he door of Castiel’s office as a soft knock sounds.

Castiel goes pale and spins, all the blood leaving his face or possibly his entire body, as he sees Dean Winchester standing at the door. He’s wearing the pecan-colored leather coat that fits him so well and his cheeks are red from the cold outside and there’s still a few snowflakes in his hair. “Hey, Gabe,” he says as Castiel stands stiffly. “Hey, Cas. Nice hats.”

“Oh god,” Castiel whispers, grabbing for the hat.

“Hey, no, keep it on. It’s a good look on you,” Dean says and Castiel freezes. He sees Gabriel’s grin widen from the corner of his eye but all that matters is that Dean is looking at him. It’s probably a joke, but Castiel leaves the hat on and an easy smile spreads over Dean’s face. “So you got a present for me, Mister Claus?”

“What?” The thing about Dean that Castiel likes least is the way he often renders Castiel speechless. That and the myriad ways he can make Castiel feel like a complete idiot.

“I think he means the papers,” Gabriel mutters and Castiel snaps back to reality.

“Oh yes, of course.” Castiel stands and hands Dean the heavy packet. He manages to just barely touch Dean’s fingers as he does it. They’re cold and rough and it makes Castiel catch his breath and for a second Dean holds his eyes. It makes Castiel wish he’d never leave. “I didn’t think you’d be working on Christmas,” he asks, hoping to extend his time.

“Yeah, well, better than my other options,” Dean replies and there’s a dark edge to his voice that concerns Castiel.

“And it’s not like you won’t be here, slogging away,” Gabriel adds with an eye roll. That seems to get Dean’s attention.

“You’re working Christmas day too?” Dean asks.

“Have to hit the end of year billable hour requirements,” Castiel deflects. It’s not really true, since he met his goal for the year three weeks ago. But the best chance for advancement is to go above and beyond.

“Oh. That sucks,” Dean says.

“It does,” Castiel says automatically and Gabriel heaves a sigh.

“You got anymore pick-ups tonight, Dean-o?” Gabriel asks, effortlessly friendly and sociable in a way Castiel will never understand.

“Nope, you’re my only one,” Dean replies. “Made a special trip just for you.” Castiel gives him a weak smile which Dean returns and it’s instantly the best part of Castiel’s day. Maybe his whole week.

“So you’re done with work, just like us!” Gabriel says, turning to Castiel with mischief in his face. “Don’t sound like you’re heading home to family.”

“Uh, no,” Dean replies, looking mildly annoyed. Castiel meanwhile is fighting the urge to strangle his one friend in the office.

“Well, then you should come to the Fairmont for Holiday drinks with us!”

Dean opens his mouth to protest, or maybe just decline, then looks at Castiel. Castiel holds his breath, caught by green eyes. He knows Gabriel is going to mock him for staring later but he really doesn’t care. He just hopes he can convey without having to speak how much he does want to have drinks with Dean, even with his coworkers hanging on. “You sure you won’t mind a grunt butting in on your fancy lawyer time?” Dean asks carefully.

“It would be an honor,” Castiel says and it sounds stupid but it makes Dean smile again.

“Perfect!” Gabriel exclaims and claps Castiel too roughly on the back. “Let me go unchain Hannah from her desk. She’s got that…thing she’s stuck on so it might take a little while. We’ll just meet you two there.”

“Gabriel…” Castiel argues, alarm bells going off.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I gotta drop this in my car though. Do you mind a detour, Cas?” Dean says and Castiel's heart leaps. That’s more time alone with Dean. If he can manage a coherent sentence outside the office with Dean it will be a Christmas miracle.

“Not at all,” Castiel replies a bit too fast and grabs his trench coat from the hook on the door. It takes him close to Dean and he almost falls over when the other man leans close into him

“Please keep this on,” Dean says, low so that only Castiel can hear. It takes a glance upwards from Dean for Castiel to realize he’s still wearing the ridiculous hat.

Castiel has no idea what to say to that so he just nods and starts walking, hoping his face doesn’t match the red of the hat. He should not read anything into this. He’s always been terrible at social cues and Dean is just being nice and semi-flirtatious as always. There is no way someone like Dean would actually be interested in him.

“See you two in a bit! Merry Christmas!” Gabriel calls after them and both give a wave before they turn the corner and disappear from sight. Castiel is able to keep his focus on moving forward until he’s alone in an elevator with Dean Winchester smiling at him. He’s not quite sure when the elevator added the feature that sucked out all the oxygen.

“So, two poor schmucks with no Christmas plans,” Dean says, scratching the back of his neck. “Ain’t we a pair?”

“Working is a plan,” Castiel argues and Dean gives a laugh far too hearty for the pale attempt at a joke.

“Yeah, well, that’s tomorrow. Tonight, we party.”

“I’m not very good at parties,” Castiel confesses. He probably shouldn’t be admitting that, but he’s never been good a false pretenses even when trying to impress people.

“You just haven’t had the right date,” Dean says with a grin as the elevator dings and he steps out into the lobby. Again Castiel has no idea how to take that, but he follows Dean like he’s in a trance as they walk through the lobby and out into the street. Dean heads towards an astonishing black car a little ways down the block. Even dusted with snow, Castiel can tell it’s in pristine condition and gorgeous.

“This is your car?” Castiel asks in awe.

“Yep, this is my Baby. Pretty awesome, huh?”

“I thought process servers were supposed to be inconspicuous.”

“Only when we have to be sneaky. Usually it’s not a problem. The car distracts people from the getting sued bit sometimes,” Dean says with a shrug.

“I’m sure you distract them too,” Castiel mutters before he can stop himself and Dean grins. He unlocks the trunk and stores the papers in a hidden compartment, which is quite impressive then slams it closed again before giving a comical shiver.

“You gonna be warm enough in that thing?” Dean asks, gesturing to Castiel’s trench coat.

“I should be fine."

Dean doesn’t look to convinced. “Let’s get somewhere warm anyway. Gabe said the Fairmont?”

Castiel nods. “The bar is popular with the firm, especially given that attorneys can drink to excess, spend a night at the hotel, and return to work the next morning.”

“God, you people need to ease up,” Dean mutters. “I know I work too much and you crazies make me tired just thinking about your schedule.”

“It’s just the way it’s done,” Castiel sighs, falling into stride as they walk down the street. It's pretty much dark already and snow is falling softly, catching in the lights adorning the trees and shop windows of downtown. It’s an idyllic scene and it warms Castiel’s heart to be sharing it with Dean, even briefly. It feels safe and right and warm. “It, as you noted, sucks,” he adds, feeling honest and bold.

Beside him Dean raises an eyebrow. “Are the corporate overlords gonna get you for dissent if they hear you saying that?”

“Well, the assassins don’t work Christmas eve either,” Castiel says flatly and Dean barks out a laugh.

They reach the Fairmont and stepping into the lobby from the street is like stepping from one Christmas card to another. They dark wood walls are festooned with evergreen garlands heavy with sparkling ornaments and bows. A huge tree stands in the middle of the front atrium, complete with presents and over-sized toys underneath. And beyond that is an entire wall covered in gingerbread making a life-size house.

“Wow, fancypants,” Dean breathes, his eyes sparkling with warmth at the scene.

“You’ve never been here before?”

“Not really my scene. But it’s nice,” Dean says. It’s confusing to Castiel because he can’t think of any place where Dean wouldn’t fit in or belong. Perhaps he’s biased. Dean follows him to the bar where they find a nice booth with room for Gabriel and Hannah and a good view of the decorations. Castiel finds himself smiling contently as he takes in the decor before he notices Dean staring. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for the holiday type,” Dean says carefully.

“I love Christmas,” Castiel replies. “I just haven’t been able to celebrate it much this year. Or last. Or…well, it’s been a while.”

“Work?” Dean asks and Castiel looks down at the shinning wood of the table.

“Last year, yes. Before that I was in law school but my family didn’t like the person I was seeing at the time, so we weren’t invited to any functions, and I’d always relied on their celebrations. And my…” Castiel’s throat constricts a bit. This part is always hard. He never knows how people will react. They live in a tolerant city, but there are still a lot of hateful people around. Especially lately. “My boyfriend didn’t like holidays either.”

“Sounds like dumping him was a good call,” Dean says with sympathy and not a hint of judgment. Castiel looks up and the other man’s green eyes are warm and maybe a bit…hopeful? “You did dump him, right?”

“Yes, I did,” Castiel replies with a smile. Dean smiles back and Castiel finds his heart pounding. He looks happy about that. Definitely happy.

“Can I get you boys something to drink?” The waitress’s voice interjects. She’s small with a lilting Scottish accent and flaming red hair. “A wee bit of liquid holiday cheer?”

“You got eggnog?” Dean asks. “The grown up kind?”

“Of course, dearie,” the waitress smile. “And you?”

“The same, please,” Castiel says and she flounces away with a smile.

“You got good taste,” Dean comments.

“You can’t have Christmas without eggnog,” Castiel replies and Dean nods in agreement.

“My brother always gets up in arms about how bad for you it is,” Dean says after a beat, a faraway look in his eye.

“You’ve mentioned him,” Castiel says because he’s really not sure what else to say. Dean likes to tell stories and they often feature his brother Sam’s exploits. The pride in Dean’s words from those occasions doesn’t match the bitterness in his face now. “Is he not…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Dean says in a very not fine tone. “Uh, he’s…he’s in California. Goes to college there and this year he's spending Christmas with his fucking new girlfriend and her hallmark card family.”

Castiel isn’t sure how to respond to the vehemence in those words. He feels like he’s poked at a fresh wound and doesn’t want to rub salt in it. “I’m sorry.” It’s all he can manage.

“Yeah me, too,” Dean mutters then gives Castiel a thoughtful look. “I, uh…we always did Christmas, me and him. Sorta don’t know what do without him this year. Hence the working.”

“It’s a good distraction from-“ Castiel is about to say ‘being lonely’ but stops himself. “From everything.”

“Guess there’s always next year,” Dean says wistfully. “How’s the song go? 'Someday soon we all will be together.' Have to muddle through somehow until then.”

“I like that one,” Castiel smiles. “Though many versions change those lyrics so it’s not so depressing.”

Dean raises an eyebrow and Castiel wonders if he said something offensive.

“And here we are!” The waitress chimes in again, setting two frothy glasses of eggnog in front of them with a smile. Dean gives her a nod and Catstiel can’t help but notice his smile doesn’t reach his eyes the way it does when he looks at Castiel.

“What should we drink to?” Castiel asks, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Well, I’d say drink to the fact we’ve got jobs to distract us from our shitty families but, our jobs suck too so…” Dean’s eyes brighten a bit. “Let’s drink to at least not spending Christmas eve alone.”

“I can support that.” The eggnog is rich and the rum in it warms and relaxes Castiel almost instantly. He licks a few drops off his top lip without thinking before noticing that Dean is staring…at his mouth. That’s normal though. Castiel drew attention to it. And Dean’s just being friendly talking so freely with him.

“Do your parents still talk to you?” Dean asks suddenly, confusing Castiel.

“Some, though not as much as I’d like,” Castiel replies unsurely. “When we stay on the topic of my career we’re safe. They’re proud of that and I…I haven’t dated anyone since law school.”

“My dad, he…” Dean starts unsteady, like he’s maybe never said this to anyone. “He didn’t talk to me for a month after he caught me with a guy in high school.”

Castiel’s grip on his drink tightens, trying to sort through what Dean’s revealed. Dean likes men. Dean’s father is a homophobic ass. Castiel’s tongue has gone numb and his pulse is racing and Dean likes _men_. Of course that doesn’t mean he likes Castiel but it’s certainly a start. “He-he doesn’t sound like a very supportive parent,” Castiel stammers trying to sound sympathetic and Dean just gives a bitter laugh.

“Yeah, well, he pays my bills so…”

Castiel feels like an idiot for not thinking about the actual name of the process serving company – Winchester and Sons. It sounds like one son has already left. “You don’t like working for him?”

“Are you asking if I like working for a drunk who can’t be bothered to let me even know where he is half the time? Including Christmas. No.”

“And you…don’t like your job in general,” Cas goes on and takes another sip of eggnog. The rum is helping him feel a little less scared.

“I track down people and tell them they’re getting sued or divorced or their house it getting taken away, it fucking sucks. For fuck’s sake I’m on deck to ruin some poor idiot’s Christmas tomorrow.”

“That was Gabriel’s idea,” Castiel blurts out. He suddenly hates his job as much as Dean does.

“Yeah, I figured,” Dean says and smirks.

“Why do you do it then?” It’s probably a rude question but Castiel can’t comprehend someone who seems as bright and brave and brash as Dean not doing anything they wanted.

“Family, I guess,” Dean mutters, taking his own long sip then slowly licking his lips so that Castiel temporarily loses brain function. Dean’s eyes are sparkling in the dim light of the bar, golden Christmas lights from the decorations reflected in the green as a piano plays carols softly from somewhere out of sight. He leans toward Castiel, a slightly predatory look in his eyes and Castiel is quite sure he’s going to die right there. “Why do you keep doing your shitty job?”

“What?” He’s completely forgotten the topic. Jobs. Right. Dean hates his as much as Castiel. And they’re more alike than Castiel would have thought. “Perhaps the same reason,” he confesses trying and failing to focus on anything but distractingly beautiful man in front of him. “I don’t want to disappoint my family more than I already have.”

“What would you rather do?”

Castiel blinks at Dean. He’s dared to mention his dissatisfaction with his job to a few old friends, not that he sees them much, but no one has ever taken the next step and asked him what he _wants_ to do. Even in law school there had just been the assumption that he would follow the prescribed path from clerkship to associate and beyond.

“I want…I’d like to work for a non-profit or legal aid, actually,” Castiel says and he feels like he’s confessing a crime. “There’s no money in it but I’d like to help people.”

“That’s what I would have guessed,” Dean says, looking at Castiel with something fond and warm in his eyes and makes it extremely hard for him to breathe. “You seem like the do-gooder type. Bet you put spiders outside instead of killing them.”

“They’re just going about their lives-” Castiel stops himself as Dean grins. He hopes the dim light hides his blush. “What would you rather do?” has asks, hoping to deflect.

“It’s stupid,” Dean answers too quickly.

Castiel furrows his brow. “I don’t think you could say anything that I would find stupid.”

Dean scoffs at that and Castiel notes that his cheeks darken, which means Dean very likely saw him blushing too, but maybe they can both blame the rum. He waits as Dean shifts in his seat, shy and uncomfortable until he looks up to meet Castiel’s eyes. He must see something that gives him some confidence. “I sorta…want to be a musician. I mean, I am…like I play and sing and I have few songs but…I’d rather do that. Just give that a try.”

Castiel doesn’t ask why Dean doesn’t do that. He knows the answer. But it still makes him smile to think of Dean at a piano or with a guitar. “I’d like to hear you sing,” he says instead, soft and wistful.

“You don’t even know if I’m a good singer,” Dean counters, though he’s smiling.

“Well, you have a very nice speaking voice, so I assume it translates.”

That earns a laugh from Dean that Castiel hadn’t intended to get. “You give the weirdest compliments.”

“I’m not very good at…socializing, I’m sorry.” Castiel takes another swig of eggnog, hoping the booze will make him less awkward, and looks around for Gabriel. He really should be here by now.

“No, I like it,” Dean says and Castiel’s focus whips back to him. “Never know what you’re going to say next. You’re kinda exciting.”

It’s Castiel’s turn to laugh. “No one has ever described me as ‘exciting.’” He uses air quotes and again Dean grins at him. Castiel is quickly becoming addicted to that sparkling look.

“What about cute?”

Castiel stares at Dean, not sure if he just hallucinated that. Dean has a mischievous look in his eye that could be teasing or could be flirtatious and Castiel almost is afraid to ask. Of course that’s the moment his phone buzzes with a text message.

“I…uh…” Castiel fumbles the phone from his coat pocket to see that the message is from Gabriel.

**> >whoops. turns out hannah and I can’t make it. you’ve got the hottie all to yourself! **

 “Oh no,” Castiel sighs, sinking into the leather of the booth in embarrassment.

“Gabe ain’t comin’, is he?” Dean asks and for some reason he’s smiling.

“I believe he intentionally misled us,” Castiel confesses. “He may have been under the impression…”

“That we like each other and were too chicken shit to make a move?” Castiel can only gulp and gawk at Dean. “I gotta say, that’s fine by me. Though I’m thinking I maybe need to get over that.”

“What…”

“Subtle doesn’t work with you, does it?”

“No. I’m…no.” Castiel imagines he looks like a pale, terrified fool right now.

“Okay then. I like you, Cas,” Dean says steady and impossible. “You’re weird and honorable and really fucking hot and I’ve been flirting with you for months hoping you'd get the hint cause I think you like me.”

Castiel opens and closes his mouth a few times before nodding. “Very much,” he answers, his voice small and tight.

“So…you okay with calling this a first date?”

Castiel wonders if he will have time in the next twenty four hours to but Gabriel multiple expensive Christmas presents as a thank you.

“That would be…wonderful,” Castiel replies, chest still tight. Dean smiles and at that moment he knows he’s lost, ruined for any other smile or green eyes or freckles or anything else ever. “I’ve…liked you for a very long time. But you’re intimidatingly attractive,” he says, though he knows it’s inappropriate.

Dean throws his head back in laughter. “See what I mean. Exciting.”

Castiel finds himself smiling as well. “Well, if this is a date…what should we do when we finish our drinks?”

“Well, it’s also Christmas and I don’t know about you but I’ve missed a lot of the merry this year so…how about that?”

“That’s extremely vague.”

“We’ll make it up as we go along then,” Dean smiles.

They end up drinking more eggnog before they leave the bar, walking a bit closer than before. Dean shares more stories of service gone wrong, then more from what turns out to be his other part time job, fixing cars on the weekend for someone who isn’t quite an uncle. When he learns Castiel has no car he’s appalled before Castiel reminds him that Dean has enough car for the both of them. The take in the decorations in the lobby, taking time by the huge gingerbread wall.

“I never knew anyone who actually made those,” Castiel comments. “Gingerbread houses I mean.”

“We did one year,” Dean says and Castiel turns from the display to look up at him. There’s something sad in his face. “Mom got a kit, had to stop us from eating all the candy before it got on the thing. Didn’t have to worry about the cookie shit though, it was awful. She really loved the holidays.”

Castiel doesn’t remark on the use of the past tense. It’s the first mention of Dean’s mother and he senses he shouldn't push.

“My family, we'd always go to this…place. It wasn’t really a park or a garden. But they had lights that you could walk through and choirs singing at this little Church. I always liked that,” Castiel offers.

“Tell me what else you liked,” Dean asks with a smile.

“I like the lights, and the snow. The music. I like how people are just a bit nicer, more hopeful. It makes me believe in a better world for a little while.” Cas shrugs. “I know that’s corny.”

“Nah, it’s…it’s sorta perfect,” Dean says, soft and sincere as he looks at Cas. He's close Cas can could count Dean’s freckles if he wanted to. He’s so distracted by that idea that he almost jumps when Dean’s hand slips into his. He doesn’t withdraw though and when he squeezes it, Dean smiles.

“Wanna go look at some lights?”

“I’d love that.”

They walk hand in hand from the hotel, to the city square, stopping to look at window displays and enjoy the snow and the bare trees full of white lights. Cas has been working a few floors above all of this for a month and hasn’t had he time to even notice how beautiful it is. He says as much to Dean who it turns out feels the same way. They end up talking about how long they’ve lived in the city, since neither of them are natives. It sounds like Dean moved around a lot as a child and that it was rare for his family to be in the same place for Christmas two years in a row. They stop for actual honest-to-god roast chestnuts from a street cart and the man selling them - a gangly, tall character with a huge grin - is so jovial and kind that Cas fishes out a few twenties from his pocket to shove in his little tip jar. It earns a look of approval from Dean that makes Cas’s heart swell.

Talking with Dean is easy, like he’s a friend Cas has known forever. Dean has an opinion on every piece of pop culture known to man almost, and they end up debating favorite Christmas movies over tamales from another vendor (Dean’s treat) as they huddle on a bench in view of the huge tree in the square. They both have a soft spot for “Meet Me In St. Louis” and neither of then can quite say why. It’s perfect until Cas ends up dropping his fork because his hands are too cold.

“Maybe we should head inside somewhere,” Cas suggests, when Dean gives him a look.

“I was wondering when you were gonna turn into a popsicle,” Dean smiles, taking the remnants of their food to dispose of then helping Cas up from the bench. “Jesus, your hands are freezing.”

“It’s not so bad…” Cas doesn’t know what he was going to say because Dean pulls both his hands into his and starts rubbing and blowing on them to warm them up. “In fact I think this is worth it.”

“Smooth,” Dean says, laughing under his breath. “At least I know your head is warm.”

Cas squints at Dean for a second before the other man reaches up and bats at the pompom on the top of the ridiculous hat Cas is _still_ wearing. Cas shuts his eyes in shame. “Damnit, I keep forgetting about this thing.”

“Hey, I told you it’s a good look, red goes good with blue,” Dean smiles. He’s still holding one of Castiel’s hands and drags a thumb over his knuckles. “Gotta keep that big brain warm.”

“My face is still cold though,” Cas says. He knows its maybe a bit obvious and corny but Dean drifts closer to him, eye twinkling as snow catches in his lashes.

“Do I need to warm that up too?” Dean asks, voice low and husky.

“Are you asking to kiss me?” If there’s one thing Cas has learned tonight it’s that being direct has its advantages.

Dean laughs, crow’s feet blossoming at the corner of his eyes and nods. “Yeah, I wanna kiss you, Cas.”

Cas takes that as his own permission and presses his lips to Dean’s.

If Castiel is being honest, and he often is, he’s fantasized about Dean’s lips from the first day he met him. They’re beautiful: pink and luscious but not too plump, and the way he tends to lick them, or the way he catches his tongue between his teeth when he’s thinking something, is sinfully enticing. So Cas can’t be blamed, really, for having thought _extensively_ in the last few months about what it would feel like to kiss Dean, among other things.

Reality is so much better than his daydreams.

They kiss softly at first, barely moving, but filling Castiel’s whole body with a sort of vibrating heat. When Dean does move his mouth, deepening the kiss and working Castiel's lips apart, it’s fantastic and he makes a small, rather desperate sound in response. Dean pulls away much too soon for Castiel’s liking but at least it means he gets to look at him again.

“Warmer?” Dean asks.

“Slightly.”

“Mmm, better try again then,” Dean purrs and dips his head to kiss Cas again. It’s just as wonderful as the first kiss, but this one is unfortunately interrupted by someone loudly clearing their throat. They turn to see a woman holding a child’s hand and glaring at them.

“Apologies-”

“Sorry, I was just telling Santa my Christmas list,” Dean cuts Cas off and the woman yanks her child away looking scandalized. Dean turns back to Cas, grinning and snakes his arms around his neck, making sure to play with the hat as he does.

“That was inappropriate,” Cas mutters without much conviction.

“You’re right,” Dean says, looking smug and playful. “I should be sitting on your lap.”

“That could be arranged, though it might require some lubrication,” Cas replies without missing a beat and Dean leans back laughing. The sight of Dean Winchester laughing in the snow with a huge Christmas tree behind him is the most beautiful thing Castiel has ever seen. Before Cas can savor the sight too long, Dean leans back into his space, licking his lips.

“Please don’t ask me if I’ve been a good boy this year,” Dean says. “Because the answer is gonna be no.”

“I highly doubt that,” Cas mutters, feeling bold. “I think you deserve anything you want, Dean.” 

Dean presses against Cas, his mouth close to his ear so that Cas can feel the heat of his breath when he speaks. “Well, I’d certainly like to take you home and see if you fit under my tree,” Dean whispers and Cas doesn’t even roll his eyes at the cheesy line.

“That too can be arranged,” Cas murmurs.

Dean kisses him quickly then takes his hand, leading him away from the square and back towards his car. They walk the whole way holding hands, not talking really, just exchanging gentle looks. Cas can’t quite believe this is real but if it’s a dream, he has no intention of waking up, ever again. Dean kisses him again when they’re inside his big black car. As they wait for the windows to defrost, he cups Castiel’s face in cold hands and licks into his mouth. He tastes sweet and spicy and the rasp of his stubble against Castiel’s is intimate and familiar.

“How far away do you live?” Cas asks breathlessly when they draw apart, moderately thankful that his extremities are still numb, which is keeping any problems in his pants from developing.

“About ten minutes.”

Cas nods and pulls away as Dean puts the car in gear and turns on the radio to a station already playing Christmas music. Dean keeps glancing at him as he drives, which isn’t entirely safe given the wintery conditions, but Cas doesn’t mind. He’s more worried about what will happen when they reach Dean’s place. Cas looks out the window and focuses on the lights as they drive instead of the insanely beautiful man next to him who for some reason wants to take him home. Things are easier when they’re kissing, or even just touching. It reassures him that this is possible and real. So he hopes Dean doesn’t mind when he places a hand on his thigh.

Dean covers Cas’s hand with his own and keeps it there for the rest of the ride.

Dean lives in a neighborhood full of old Victorian houses and squat bungalows. He pulls into a covered driveway next to a house adorned with rainbow-colored lights that sag off the gutters in a few places. “I just rent the basement, but my land lady is down south with family for the holidays,” Dean explains as they get out of the car. He leads Cas down a few steps to a door badly in need of fresh paint and carefully toes off his wet shoes when they step inside and Cas does the same. The basement apartment is dim, the only light filtering in from a few high windows level with the ground that are crusted with snow. Cas losses track of Dean as he makes his way past a few shadowy shapes and towards one wall and fiddles with something. With a click, the room fills with the light of a small, scraggly Christmas tree set in a corner and a few strings of multi-colored lights. The little apartment is impeccably clean, with a couch against a wall, across from a television, a small desk, a queen sized bed tucked into a corner and a kitchenette but it’s the little touches that Cas likes best. Posters and license plates on the walls, a few little Christmas figurines set on the window sill, including a small snowman next to a porcelain angel.

“I know it’s sorta…lame,” Dean mutters standing in the center looking bashful. “But it’s home.”

“It’s perfect,” Cas says, meaning it completely. He meets Dean’s eyes, noting the other man’s tentative smile and the open, expectant look in his face.

“Do you want some, uh, coffee or…” Dean swallows and licks his lips as he keeps staring at Cas.

“I’d rather kiss you some more.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Dean breathes and he’s on Cas in an instant, locking their mouths together. It’s a much hungrier and deeper kiss than back in the square or even in the car and it has Cas breathless. Dean doesn’t waste time before he pushes off Castiel’s trench and struggles out of his own jacket and over shirt. Cas has his hands on Dean as soon as he’s free, exploring his strong shoulders and firm chest and…a surprisingly soft stomach. “Umm…” Cas pulls away from kissing him to see that Dean looks embarrassed. “Never was really able to get the six pack thing…”

“I like it,” Cas murmurs, fiddling with the hem on Dean’s tee shirt. “Does it shake like a bowl full of jelly?”

“Okay that was terrible.”

“I prefer the term…seasonal.”

“Yeah well, you’re still wearing the hat,” Dean reminds him and before Cas can yank it off Dean’s mouth is on him again as he pulls Cas tight against his chest. Cas slips a hand under Dean’s shirt, finally touching his smooth, warm skin and gives a pleased noise. He does like Dean’s stomach. He likes the way his hips feel under his thumbs, the way Dean’s strong hands cup his ass. He loves the way Dean hums in pleasure as Cas kisses his neck. In all his fantasies, Cas had never imagined anything quite like this. Kissing Dean in the soft, red-gold light of his small tree and gasping as Dean mouths at his pulse point is beyond perfect or hot. When he feels Dean’s growing erection against him, a switch flips in his brain and he kisses Dean roughly, grinding against him so Dean know he’s hard too.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, fumbling at Cas’s buttons as the heat and intensity between them increases. “Uh, bed or couch?”

“Does one of those preclude sex?” Cas asks back, grabbing Dean’s tee and finally pulling it off of him. He has a tattoo on his pectoral and Cas is going to go insane with lust before the night is over.

“Nope,” Dean says as he finishes with the buttons and Cas tugs off his own tie. “Though couch might be better if you’re gonna make good on that offer from earlier,” Dean says with a dangerous smile, catching Cas’s chin with a finger.

“What offer…” Cas’s mouth falls open as he remembers. “Are you joking?”

“You up for it?”

“I…”

Dean pulls Cas close, pressing their bare chests together and kisses his shoulder and up his neck then licks at his ear. “Want you inside me, Cas,” Dean whispers. “Don’t care how.”

Obviously Castiel died at his desk at some point in the afternoon and the afterlife is being very kind to him.

“Pants off. Now,” Cas growls and Dean grins, complying very quickly as Cas undoes his own belt and pushes off his slacks. “Condoms?”

“Hold on,” Dean rushes to his bedside table, giving Castiel a good opportunity to admire his ass and the subtle outward curve of his legs. He has freckles on his thighs too, which Cas will need to examine very thoroughly later. Dean returns and presses a wrapped condom and a bottle of Astroglide into Cas’s hand before tugging him to the couch and pulling them both down onto the cushions. Cas finds himself on top of Dean, and he has to take a moment to stare at him; green eyes dark with lust, mouth flushed and shining, stubbled jaw and freckles dusted like snow. Perfect.

He kisses Dean’s chest and shoulders and neck and mouth, ravenous as they rut together. The position isn’t very good but the pressure and friction on his cock feels amazing. It’s been far too long since he’s been intimate with anyone but his own hand and he’s almost worried he’s not going to be able to draw this out as much as Dean deserves. He licks at Dean nipples, scooting his body down so that his still confined cock drags against Dean’s leg. Dean makes a noise some might consider a whine but Cas keeps moving lower, kissing at Dean’s perfectly soft abdomen and then the edge of his boxer briefs

“May I?” He asks and Dean gives an affirmative whimper. Cas tries and fails not think inappropriate thoughts about unwrapping the best present ever as he pulls the shorts down and off releasing Dean’s cock. There was something else Cas was supposed to be doing, he’s rather sure of that, but whatever it was is forgotten as he wraps his lips around Dean.  

He’s not nervous, amazingly. It’s been a little while, but sucking cock isn't really a skill that fades. He sucks at the tip, tonguing a slightly bitter drop of precome before taking more of Dean’s length in. He bobs up and down, glancing up to see Dean’s head thrown back in pleasure, his skin glowing in the soft light from the tree behind him. Cas kneads Dean’s thighs as he swallows more of him down, his thumb grazing Dean’s light thatch of hair before one hand wanders to cup his balls. He rolls them gently between his fingers at the same time as he just barely graze’s Dean’s cock with his teeth and Dean shudders. Cas wants to use every trick he’s learned, he really does but finally remembers that’s not what the goal is tonight. He trails his hand further and circles one finger carefully around Dean’s hole. Dean squirms and Cas smiles against his thigh. This is really happening. And for some reason Cas’s smile becomes a laugh.

“Uhh…not the reaction I usually like…” Dean says above him.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you it’s just…” Cas finds himself sort of hiding behind Dean’s erect cock and it’s so ridiculous he laughs again. “I haven’t done this in a while and…”

“And?” There’s worry in Dean’s voice that Cas is sad to have put there. Cas pushes himself up, Dean’s legs wrapped around him and kisses his way back up Dean’s body until he find his lips.

“And I’m with _you_ ,” Cas says softly. “I’ve…thought about you. Since the day I met you.”

He loves the smile that spreads slowly over Dean’s face and the way it melts into an open-mouthed moan as Cas begins circling his finger again. He does go slow, cautious. It’s been a while since he’s fingered anyone but himself. At least this angle is more accommodating. He watches Dean’s face carefully as he works the ring of muscle, noting each tremor of his lips and furrow of his brow and the slight gasp he gives when he presses one finger in, barely to the knuckle.  Dean grunts in displeasure when Cas withdraws before going deeper.

“Just a second,” Cas mutters, fumbling to find where he dropped the lube in the cushions. The little bottle ended up under Dean’s leg somehow. Cas squeezes some onto his fingers and resumes and yes, that’s very good. Or at least Dean seems to think so if the way he writhes and keens and Cas slides a finger inside him is to be believed.

“Fuck…” Dean sighs, tugging Cas into a kiss and moving his hip impatiently. Cas crooks a finger, searching for Dean’s prostate and knows exactly when he finds it thanks to the obscene sound Dean makes into Cas’s mouth.

“More?” Cas asks as Dean arches his back.

“Jesus Christ, yes!” Dean snaps. Cas carefully adds another finger, working Dean open more and more, losing himself Dean’s coiled heat. Dean’s breathing is coming fast now as Cas wraps his free hand around Dean’s dick. He strokes him in time with the slow thrust of his fingers and can’t resist grinding his own still clothed erection against Dean’s leg in tandem as well. “More, please. Come on, Cas…”

“I don’t want to hurt-”

“You won’t.” There’s trust in Dean’s face when he says it that Cas has no idea how he earned but he nods and complies. “Oh fuck yes!” Dean nearly yells and Cas is extremely grateful that they are alone in the house. “Feel so good, god…want your cock.”

“Are you –“

“Let me make this very clear,” Dean growls and pushes Cas up off him, manhandling him so that Cas is seated. “You’re going to fuck me now.” Dean looks at Cas with heavy-lidded eyes as he yanks off Cas’s boxers and finally frees Cas’s achingly hard cock in the cool basement air. “Oh merry Christmas to me,” Dean purrs and Cas lets out a hysterical laugh. Dean dips his head and gives Cas’s cock a long, searing lick, distracting Cas as he pries the lube from his hand and fumbles for the condom. He’s taken complete control of the situation and Cas is more than okay with it.

Dean rolls the condom onto Castiel’s dick and Cas groans at the touch of his hands, desperate for more heat, more friction, more everything. Cas watches slack-jawed as Dean dribbles lube onto his fingers a reaches around to finger himself more open. He finally gains enough will to grab the bottle and add some to his own cock a Dean straddles him and lines up.

“Ready?” It’s Dean that asks now. “Or would you like me to sign a waiver?”

Cas answers by thrusting up and that’s all the encouragement Dean needs to meet him and sink down onto Cas’s cock.

“Oh god,” Cas gasps, surrounded by Dean’s tight heat.

“Good?” Dean’s voice is rough and his hands are gentle on Cas’s cheek as he kisses him.

“Very…good…” Cas manages to say. Then Dean moves and words become a foreign concept. Cas thrusts up as best him can as Dean rides him, holding onto his hips with one hand and reaching for Dean’s cock with the other. He strokes Dean fast and tight, adoring the way Dean exposes his neck and chest as he arches back in ecstasy. He wants to keep that look there, he wants to draw out this moment forever.

“Feels so good in me,” Dean babbles, his hips rolling faster and frantic. The fiction is perfect and Cas feels the first telltale tightening deep at his core but he tries to hold back, just a bit longer, just until…”Fuck! Cas!” Deal cries and clenches around him, coming in a hot splash on Cas’s chest. Cas makes a noise vaguely related to Dean’s name as he follows him over, his whole body stiffening and shuddering as the best orgasm he’s had in fucking years overtakes him.

They’re both panting as they come down, Dean’s forehead resting against Cas’s and a wonderful, satisfied smile on his face.

“I guess I can let you take this off now,” Dean says, pushing at the hat on Cas’s head.

“Thank you.” Cas lifts the hat from his head and places it on Dean’s. “Red goes better with green anyway.”

Dean shakes his head and carefully lifts himself off Cas. “Uh, there’s a…bathroom…” Dean mutters, surprisingly shy as he looks down at the mess of come drying on Cas.

Cas nods in thanks and excuses himself to dispose of the condom and wash off. When he come back in Dean is stretching, still naked except for the hat, standing between his little Christmas tree and the bed and toying with a guitar propped against the wall. The whole scene makes Castiel smile, even though it feels like he’s intruding on a personal moment.

“Do I need to get dressed?” Cas feels a bit foolish asking it, but he wants to make sure.

Dean face is confused when he turns. “You wanna leave?”

“Not at all, I just…didn’t want to intrude if…” Before Cas can finish Dean is pulling him towards the bed and kissing him softly.

“No intruding,” Dean whispers. “Please stay.”

Castiel stares at Dean in what can only be describes as awe. He does not deserve this. The universe is not kind enough to give him the man he’s been dreaming of for months and for him to be…this.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me,” Cas says as Dean draws him down onto the bed.

“Mmmm, I don’t know if you want to make that big of a commitment,” Dean murmurs, kissing gently over Cas’s face. The white trim of the hat tickles Cas’s forehead.

“I can’t believe you let me fuck you wearing this thing,” Cas says, pushing the pompom out of the way.

“I can’t believe you kept it on 'cause I asked,” Dean teases back.

“You’re extremely persuasive,” Cas says and bites his lips thoughtfully. “But I do think you owe me.”

“Oh do I?” Dean looks more than enthusiastic about this. “Are we talking sexually or…”

“Would you play for me?”

That obviously was not what Dean was expecting to be asked and he blinks a few times. “Seriously?”

“You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No. it’s just…Most people I, uh, get horizontal with aren’t interested in…me,” Dean confesses and it strikes a perplexing chord with Cas.

“Well, we weren’t technically horizontal,” Cas says and Dean rolls his eyes. “But I hope it’s clear that I’m very interested in you. All of you.”

“Really?”

“If it’s an option…I do want to see you again,” Cas says shyly. “Many times.”

Dean considers Cas for a long moment, looking for something in his eyes, though Cas can’t imagine what. There’s nothing remarkable about him, really. He lives a dull, uninspiring life doing dull, uninspired work and there should be nothing about him even interesting to someone like this. Except with Dean, he feels like maybe there could be.

“I’d like that,” Dean says finally and claims Cas’s mouth in a delicate kiss, soft as snow. Dean’s whole naked body is pressed against Cas’s, warm and welcoming. They make out, languid and relaxed on top of the blankets until Dean pulls back with a glint in his eye. “So, what do you wanna hear?”

Cas smiles. “Surprise me.”

Dean gives a soft laugh as he stands and retrieves his guitar. Cas takes the opportunity to wrap himself in one of Dean’s soft blankets as the other man positions himself at the end of the bed, guitar propped on one bended knee. “Jeez this gives a whole new meaning to imagining the audience naked,” Dean mutters as he plucks a few strings to tune.

“I think if you performed in this outfit you’d be extremely successful,” Cas remarks and it at least works to relax Dean. Quietly, not looking at Castiel, he begins to play.

Cas knows within a few notes that Dean is talented. His fingers move effortlessly on the frets and strings as he plucks out his chords in lilting introduction before he begins to sing…

“ _Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light.  
From now on our troubles will be out of sight.”_

Dean’s voice is beautiful, all soft edges and smoky tones. It’s as warm and sexy as Dean is and as he sings, Cas thinks once more that he’s ruined for anyone else. And probably falling in love with each note.

 _“Have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the Yuletide gay_ …” Of course Dean sends Cas a wink at that line. “ _From now on our troubles will be miles away._ ”

Dean’s skin is cast in tones of red and gold in the soft glow of his lights, and with the tree behind him and the hat on his head, it’s a perfect picture. More than that, Dean’s voice and the music envelop Cas is a feeling of safety from the dark world outside.

_“Here were are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore.  
Loving friends who are dear to us, gather near to us, once more…”_

There’s a twinge of melancholy and longing to the tune and the words, something that Cas has always loved about the song. But there’s also hope and the way Dean sings is makes that part resonate louder than the regret. He even picks the hopeful lyrics instead of the sad ones.

 _“Through the years we all will be together, If the fates allow,_  
_Hang a shining star upon the highest bough._  
_And Have yourself a merry little Christmas…”_

Dean finally looks up, locking eyes with Cas as he finishes the final refrain and Cas is absolutely certain he’s fallen in love. And in the gentle glow of the lights, with Dean singing to him, it’s not scary at all.

 _“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…now…_ ”

“You should be on stage,” Cas tells Dean when he’s done. “You’re fantastic.”

“Yeah, well, we all should be a lot of things,” Dean mutters, and obviously it’s a conversation he’s used to having with himself.

“Can I hear another?” Cas asks and the self-consciousness fades from Dean’s face.

“You like Kansas?”

A hour later they’re cocooned in Dean’s warm flannel sheets, Dean taking Cas’s cock into his hot, perfect mouth. Cas is quiet as Dean undoes him, breaking him apart with his lips and tongue and oh, fingers too…He comes down Dean’s throat with a wordless gasp, his heart pounding. It takes him a while to gather himself enough to return the favor, choosing to work Dean with his hands so he can watch his eyes go wide as he comes, Cas’s hand on his dick and two fingers in his ass. He can still taste himself in Dean’s mouth when he kisses him and he doesn’t mind at all.

They watch the snow fall through the narrow windows, tangled together, the Santa hat hung proudly on Dean’s headboard.

“So, you never actually told me what you want for Christmas,” Cas whispers, rubbing his thumb gently over Dean’s bicep.

“We talking like…real shit or dream stuff?” Dean replies his voice just as soft.

“Either.”

“I dunno, maybe a ticket to see Sammy out west. I miss that kid. College, getting away from us is good, but…”

“I don’t think he’s getting away from you.” Cas knows he has no business saying that, but he also is sure in his soul it’s true. Dean doesn’t argue, just looks forlorn and resigned.

“Maybe Santa will bring me the balls to do what Sam did and tell my dad to go fuck himself. And the job too.”

“Maybe he’ll bring some for me too,” Cas replies, a familiar stab of shame and self-loathing marring the moment.

“Hey,” Dean says, combing his fingers though Cas’s hair and bringing him back to the moment. “No more shitty thoughts. It’s Christmas. Tell me something else you want.”

At that Cas smiles, and snuggles closer to Dean, greedy for has skin and his warmth. “I already got it.”

“You keep talkin’ like that I’m gonna start thinking you’re sweet on me,” Dean murmurs with a smile and kisses the tip of Cas’s nose.

“Thank you for wonderful Christmas eve, Dean.”

“We should do it again some time.”

Cas holds onto those words as he slips into sleep, the same way he keeps holding Dean. Not too tight, but safe and secure against him. Cherished.

 

Cas has no idea why his phone is ringing to wake him up instead of his alarm, or why the sound is muffled and distant instead of coming from his bedside table where it should be. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that this is not his bed.

“Oh,” is all Cas can say as he sits up and looks down at the man still asleep beside him. Dean looks as beautiful as ever. More so, actually. In the snow-brightened light of morning, Cas can make out every freckles from his nose to his shoulder and the sheets are pulled low enough he can admire his stomach too.  He completely forgets that his phone woke him up as he stares at Dean, until the damn thing starts ringing again. Shit.

Stumbling out of bed naked into the cold morning air is bracing to say the least, but at least his phone is easy to find in the pocket of his suit jacket, still on the floor where Dean threw it the night before. Dean makes a sleepy, annoyed sound from the bed as Cas checks the caller ID and answers.

“Mr. Adler,” Cas says. His voice is much more steady than it usually is when he addresses any of the partners. In fact the normal knot of anxiety that takes over his chest on calls like this is completely gone.

“Where the hell are you, Novak? I thought you’d be in today,” Adler snaps. “Some of us care about our jobs.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I…” he gropes for an excuse. Lost track of time? Slept in? Dean shifts in the bed, fully awake at the sound of Cas’s voice now and rubs his eyes. “It’s Christmas, Sir, I decided to take the day off.”

Dean’s eyes go wide and that makes Cas’s heart leap.

“Novak, I hope you know that this reflects very poorly on you. I was relying on you being in today. You do realize we’re completing service on the Bryant case and will need to get the discovery request out immediately.”

“Sir, I hope I can convince you not to ruin the Bryants’ Christmas and serve some other time,” Cas says firmly, more to Dean than the phone. Dean’s face is curious and warm as Cas makes his way back to the bed.

“Novak have you lost your mind?” Adler yells, loud enough that Dean winces as Cas crawls back under the blanket.

“No, sir, I just think that…”

“You’re not paid to think, peon, you’re paid to do. As I say!”

Dean raises an eye brow and Cas takes a deep steadying breath. “Then I guess you don’t have to pay me.”

“Excuse me?!”

Cas imagines that Adler’s face looks a bit like Dean’s in terms of the shock. He wishes he could see it, but what he’s looking at now is better anyway.

“I quit. Merry Christmas.” Cas hangs up and tosses the phone to the floor, not looking away from Dean.

“Did you just…quit your job?”

“It would appear so.” The grin that spreads across Dean’s face is like a sunrise and Cas mirrors it. He wasn’t prepared to feel this happy.

“Holy shit,” Dean practically giggles. “Was the sex really that good?”

“Yes, but…” Cas shakes his head. “I just woke up and looked at you and…anything seemed possible.”

Dean shakes his head and tugs Cas into a kiss that’s equal parts lust and celebration. His green eyes are even more brilliant in the morning light when he pulls away, thoughtful and calculating. “Hold that thought, okay?”

“What are you…” Cas doesn’t mind Dean leaping over him and out of the bed to grab his own pants. He fishes out his phone and he glances nervously at Cas as he hits a speed dial. Whoever answers does so with a garbled yell that Cas can’t quite translate.

“Yeah, merry Christmas to you too, Dad,” Dean snaps and it’s Cas’s turn to look stunned. “Just wanted to say that you can finally take the ‘and Sons’ BS off the name. I’m out.” Another noise comes across the lines, muffled in Dean’s ear and Cas can’t make any words out. Dean rolls his eyes, already completely done with anything his father has to say and it actually makes Cas a little proud. “Uh huh. Yeah, well, I got other things to do.” Dean ends the calls and tosses his phone somewhere in the vicinity of the couch and turns to Cas with a grin. “Holy shit that kinda felt awesome.”

“Extremely awesome,” Cas says.

Dean’s smile doesn’t fade as he returns to the bed, straddling Cas as he does. “Thanks.”

“For what?” Cas squints at Dean as he moves them down into the tangle of sheets and blankets.

“Giving me some courage, or inspiration or whatever.” Dean’s bashful about it, of course.

“I didn’t do anything,” Cas murmurs. “Or if I did, I should be the one thanking you for…everything really.”

“Maybe we should just credit Santa,” Dean smirks, glancing up at the red and white hat still mocking them from his head board and winking at Cas. “I think he came at least twice last night.”

“Are you always this bad?” Cas sighs, wrapping Dean in his arms and pulling him close.

“Yup.”

“Good.”

Dean kisses him and it feels different in the light of day. Instead of a dream it’s real and solid and it feels like hope.

“So, we got a whole day free now. What do we do?” Dean asks, pushing suggestively close to Cas.

“Well, I was hoping for food and sex, maybe a nap,” Cas says and Dean shakes his head in what looks like adoration.

“Holy crap, I’m keeping you.”

Cas pulls him down into another kiss, long and deep and searing and they both break away breathing faster. “Yes, please.”

“You want Christmas pancakes before or after I take you for a sleigh ride?”

“I thought we were…oh!” Cas could look up at the sight of Dean smiling for the rest of his life and be a very happy man. “After.”

“Good choice.” Dean returns to kissing him, unhurried and perfect and when he pulls away again the light and hope in his face reflects everything in Cas’s heart. “Hey one more question?”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about California for new year’s?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy Christmas (song) fic please check out some of the other works in the Make the Yuletide Gay series!


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